I fiddle with the tab on the Diet Pepsi, then tell her my history with Noah—how he’s always talked down to me, how he came onto my ex, and she cheated on me, how he’s got a reputation for being a Don Juan.
When I finish, she looks down. “I should’ve trusted you. I didn’t want his motives to be tainted, though. I wanted it to be all about my talent.”
“If he wasn’t such an idiot, itwould’vebeen. To be clear, I’m not thrilled about being right.”
She cocks an incredulous brow. “Everyone loves being right.” Her smile fades as she twists the soda can absently.
“Not like that. It had nothing to do with you, Mia. I hope you know that. Much as I hate to admit it, Noah was smart to ask you to do a duet. I wish I’d thought of it first. But Noah can’t pass up an opportunity for more. Or to rub things in my face.”
Her eyes flit to mine. “What do you mean?”
“He knew, Mia. He knew it’d drive me crazy to see you with him—to take you from me.”
She swallows. “It… drove you crazy?”
I let out a soft laugh. “I couldn’t even watch you on stage tonight once he started putting his hands on you. I listened, though.” I can’tnotlisten to Mia’s voice.
“I had no idea he was going to do that,” she says. “It wasn’t rehearsed. I assumed it was for the crowd or because he’d been drinking.”
I grimace, but the edge of my lip creeps up. “What happened to all those fancy boundaries of yours, huh?”
Her mouth twists to the side. “Okay, yes, I deserve that. And I get it now. I’ve been really hard on you.” Her eyes search mine. “I’m sorry for what I said… about you selling out.”
I look away. “It’s true. I did sell out.”
“You did what you thought would help you live out your dream.”
“Yeah. And look where that got me. Singing somebody else’s stupid songs while mine are in prison with my label.”
“Have you asked if you can sing one of them? To finish off the tour?”
“I told Paul I wanted that if I agreed to the whole Noah thing.”
“And…?”
“They said they’d think about it. Which is their way of saying no gently. They always say no. It’s about thebrandand theimage. Can’t be messing with that.” I grab the stress ball and chuck it at the wall.
“Your hand,” she says, taking hold of it. My knuckles are red, and the skin on my middle finger is torn.
“It’s fine.” I don’t pull away, though. I like her holding my hand too much. “It was worth it.”
She smiles sadly, then brings my knuckles to her lips and presses a soft kiss to it.
The tenderness of it strips the breath from my lungs. Mia and I haven’t ventured into that sort of territory before now. I mean, she shoved me in a pool the first time we met, for heaven’s sake.
“Thank you,” she says, “for protecting me.”
I nod, and my chest tightens as I consider how far I would go, the things I would do for Mia. A few scraped knuckles and a shiner are only the beginning of it.
I put my palm against her cheek and look into her eyes. What I see is the invitation I was hoping to see.
I press my lips to hers, and she’s ready for it. There are no hiccups this time, no performances to get to. Just us, lips locked for no other reason than we want to.
We turn toward each other, and our knees bump. I break away, my eyes on hers as I slip one hand under her thighs and the other around her waist and pull her onto my lap.
She wraps her arms around my neck, and we look at each other for a second before she tucks her hair behind her ear and leans in for more. Her hands grasp the back of my shirt, and a ripping sound stops us both.
She sighs dramatically. “Can a woman not grab a fistful of a man’s shirt without it disintegrating? I thought I gave you a better option than these single-ply shirts. How is it even still intact after your tussle with Noah?”
